From the Diary of an Unknown Person
by RekiKaz
Summary: This is a oneshot piece!


Author's Note: Have you ever wondered about what witches feel?

From the diary of an unknown person

October 30, 2004

I write today because I know that tomorrow I will be dead. Today at school this girl I don't even know gave me a weird look. I didn't even do anything to her. Also, another girl I didn't know started crying when she looked at me. Besides this, nothing special happened. The day went on as usual, nobody noticed me, which I like. If I become close to somebody it will only bring grief to whoever I befriend.

From my room I can hear my mom playing her classical CD. She's lucky. She doesn't know about tomorrow. Her favourite song is playing, Hebrides Overture (Fingal's Cave). I will miss her, but nothing else. This world has only brought me pain and misery.

I guess that my gift has brought my downfall. I tried to keep my gift to myself but word of it spread, I guess. A week ago, or so, I received the letter from them. I was classified as a rogue but stable and I was going to be given a chance at freedom but I guess they decided on the other alternative.

Somehow I can't stop thinking of her. I was there when she died. She asked them to kill her. The girl killed her. With a blink of an eye, my friend was engulfed in flames. When it was all over the girl left leaving it smouldering - my friend's wheelchair. She was old. Older than anyone living today. She was tired and weary. I wish she didn't go when she did because I need her advice. The last time I met with her, she told me everything that I needed to know in order to survive. She also tattooed me before I left, on the same arm as hers. The left. She said that when we both die, through this tattoo, we would meet up in the afterlife. F. But now she is gone and I will be too. I miss her so, but we'll be together soon, I hope.

I will face tomorrow without fear. At school they will come for me. I should tell my mother the truth about me & everything, including my father. My father gave up his life to save his friend. The girl was there too. So was I. The girl was the same one who killed my friend. My father, he had a gift, not the same one as mine, but a gift nonetheless. He wouldn't tell me what it was. I don't think I ever really wanted to know. His gift killed him. Actually, he used his gift to save a friend of his which entailed him to sacrifice his own life.

My song is now playing. Its so peaceful. The 1812 Overture. My mother. She's blessed. She doesn't have a gift, like dad and I. She won't get letters. She won't be hunted.

Before I discovered my gift I had goals, aspirations, and dreams. I've always wanted to be a role model. I wanted to influence others. I wanted to compete in the Winter Olympics in couples figure skating. I basically wanted to be what any other person wished. Then my gift took all my dreams away. Ever since, I've been watching Disney films and just pretended that I was the protagonist.

The music has stopped. I can hear my mom going through the CD's. She's stopped. She must have found the one she was looking for. It's ABBA. I think the song playing, The Winner Takes it All, is true in a sense. No one but that girl I mentioned earlier and who ever is with her, are the winners and they are taking them all. Them being our lives. Our meaning, those with gifts. Soon I'll just be one more person who've been silenced by her. It's kind of sad really that everyone dies eventually but some are destined to perish earlier than others. I guess that I'm included in that some.

Now there is no music playing. Mother must have settled down for the night, reading a book in front of the fireplace. It is well past midnight but I am not tired at all.

I can feel my gift pulsing through my veins. It is a curse as well as my destiny. I am anxious to meet my destiny. I wonder what death will be like, how I'll be killed. Maybe I won't die, but kidnapped or. . .who knows what. My mind is thinking of so many possibilities that I can't write them all. I know that they will kill, but maybe its just a cover.

As well as being anxious, I am excited. The feeling of knowing the outcome but not knowing the means is exhilarating. Just thinking about it more and more makes my heart race. It's a strange feeling. I'm starting to breathe heavily. I'm not sure if I like this feeling. I believe that this is panic. It feels like I'm in a horror film. I'm the victim waiting in suspense for the killer to steal my life.

Shakespear once said that: All the world is a stage and we are merely the actors. I agree with him because when I leave the classroom tomorrow when they summon me I'll be like an exit stage-left. I also believe that when I leave the stage I won't be in the spotlight anymore but my presence will linger, so I won't really be gone.

I can hear my mom brushing her teeth in the bathroom. Is she really loud or is this house really quiet? No matter. I feel as if I'm a magazine because I have so many issues. I know! I know! No more corny lines. It's just that while writing this entry I sometimes stop and read what I've already written and it's so serious. I just wanted for whoever who happens to read this after my 'exit' from the great stage that o know that I am not depressed.

It just came back. Panic. I've broken into a sweat. I'm having trouble breathing. Just calm down! I've just had a thought. What if. . .no. . .I couldn't. . .it's perfect. I feel relaxed now. I have the rest of the night so it can wait. I'm going to defy them. No! Now just them, everyone! If I had thought of it sooner I wouldn't have been so anxious, worried, scared, and panicked. It's simply genius. Actually it's downright scary. My curse must have used itself on me.

The house is now quiet. Mother has gone to bed and now in the silence I can hear the sounds of the nightlife. I live right in the hear of the city in an apartment building on the 23rd floor. When I go to sleep at night I hear the sounds of my neighbours watching TV, jets flying overhead, and sirens of ambulances & police cars. These are and will still be the sweetest sounds I'll ever hear.

It is now three minutes to one. I am now getting sleepy and I shall finish soon. Back to my thoughts or now, my decision. I will not be killed at the hands of that girl. Even though my fate is decided, I will choose my own destiny. I will not be going anywhere tomorrow. I won't be anywhere. I will leave this diary at mother's place at the table. I will go somewhere in the city, probably a park, somewhere out in the open. I will leave as soon as I'm done writing. When tomorrow comes, somebody will find the body I will have left behind. There will be chaos, I guarantee it, which I am to stir. My curse, along with myself, will be gone from the face of the earth forever but my presence will linger on for eternity. It will haunt those who are aggressors to my people - people like me, who have their own curse - and comfort anyone who needs help. That's the way I want it.

Well, I guess the only thing left to say is good-bye.


End file.
